The Exception
by wikipediagreen
Summary: Johnlock fluffiness for Valentine's Day


In honour of Valentine's Day, I wrote this for my friends. I hope you enjoy and any comments are appreciated.

I do not own Sherlock, only the plot!

John was in a taxi, on hi way home to 221B when his phone went off. Digging in his pocket, John quickly pulled it out and looked at the screen. Of course it was Sherlock. "I wonder what he wants now," John chuckled to himself as he opened the message. "Maybe we ran out of milk again."

Just as John was about to read it, the cabbie pulled up to 221 Baker Street. "Here ya are, mate."

"Thanks," John smiled at him a he handed him the money. As he stepped out, the can sped away, eager for a new fare. Walking into 221, he climbed the stairs hurriedly, stuffing his phone in his pocket. Now that he was home, Sherlock could tell him himself. John smiled to himself, Sherlock hated repeating himself. But he always does for me, John thought. Maybe he likes me like I like him? He shook his head. No, it's probably just because I'm less stupid than everyone else. Sherlock "sentiment is a chemical defect in the brain" Holmes, like me. John rolled his eyes as he unlocked the flat.

"Sherlock?" he called, hanging up his jacket. "Sherlock, where are you?" Huh, he usually answers, John wondered, checking the kitchen and living room, both empty of Sherlock. Frowning, John checked his phone and read the message from the cab ride.

-Emergency at Angelo's

Come after you shower

and dress. I laid out a

jumper- SH

John stared at the message. "After I shower? 'I laid out a jumper'?" he said disbelievingly. "Well, I better do as he says." He said shaking his head. Maybe he does like you, a hopeful voice in John's head said. "No, Sherlock couldn't possible like me. Better just get going and get to him." John shook his head and again and went upstairs to shower and change hastily. Once finished, he raced down the stairs and threw open the door, hoping to catch a cab quickly. He did and he rattled off Angelo's address before he was fully in the taxi.

"Step on it please." The cabbie just raised an eyebrow, but gunned it anyway. John pulled his phone out and shot Sherlock a text.

-On my way- JW

-I'm waiting- SH

Sherlock responded quickly, Johnnoted. I can't believe he's waiting. Yes you can, the annoying voice replied. "Shut up!" John said angrily.

"Sorry sir?" the confused cabbie asked.

"Oh, um, not you," John said, a bit embarrassed. The cabbie raise his eyebrows again, but said nothing. Five minutes later, he pulled up to Angelo's. He turned to tell his passenger the total, but John was already gone and a twenty pound note in his place. The cabbie shrugged. "Probably meeting someone there for Valentine's Day and didn't want to be late."

John hopped out of the cab almost before it stopped and barely remembered to pay. He leapt through the slush and yanked the door open. Looking around frantically, he finally spotted Sherlock in their usual seat at the window. Trying to calm his racing heart and catch his breath, John took in Sherlock, which, in hindsight, wasn't a bright idea. He was wearing his usual suit, tight shirt and all, with his coat and scarf next to him. He was looking out the window and the dim light highlighted his cheekbones and ivory skin. John had caught his breath, but his heart was still racing, though this wasn't because of physical exertion.

"John." Sherlock turned to him and smiled. "Sit." John sat down, wondering where the emergency was.

"The emergency is over John. You are here," Sherlock said, forming a bridge wit his hands and looking at John.

John frowned as he took off his jacket. "Oh. Okay. Uh, what are we doing here then?"

"Having dinner of course. I took the privilege of ordering for you," Sherlock replied. John gave him a look. "What, a friend can't take another friend to dinner?"

"Not when you're Sherlock Holmes you can't. Besides, doesn't digestion slow you down?" John asked, confused. It wasn't like Sherlock to go to all of this trouble. Unless it's because he likes you, the voice in an annoying sing-song voice. That voice is getting cheeky, thought John as he pushed it away.

"Well, this is the exception," Sherlock replied quietly. John furrowed his brow, but didn't say anything. It was quiet between the two until Angelo came with their food.

"Enjoy gentlemen," Angelo said, winking at Sherlock. John was even more confused, but when he looked at his plate, it increased a tenfold.

"Sherlock," John started.

"Hmm?"

"What is this?"

"That's your favorite food, correct?" Sherlock said, picking at his plain pasta.

"Yes, but how did you know?" asked John.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You order it every time we come here. It's not a far fetched deduction."

John stared at him. "Since when do you notice my favorite food and not delete it?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I guess this is the exception."

John stared at him for a second longer before shrugging and starting to eat. Halfway through their meal, John noticed that Sherlock was eating. Really eating. "Sherlock, you're eating."

"Very astute deduction John," said Sherlock around a mouthful a pasta.

"But, why?" asked John, perplexed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and swallowed. "Well, as you say, 'I need three meals a day' so I compromised and am eating one."

John blinked. "You listened to me?"

"Yes John. It seems to be the exception."

"Oh. Well, thank you I suppose." Sherlock nodded and continued eating. John ate on autopilot, inner monologue going wild. He listens to you! Do you need any other evidence to prove that he likes you? It's so obvious! That voice is getting sassy, John thought. Well, maybe I wouldn't have to be if you would just listen to me, the voice shot back.

If John seemed a bit out of it, (and let's be honest, he was) Sherlock didn't comment. He sat there and ate, quietly watching John. When both their plates were clean, John snapped out of it and reached for his wallet to pay, since Sherlock never did. To his surprise, Sherlock already did and was putting on his coat and scarf.

"Ready?" he asked. John nodded as he shrugged his jacket on.

"Ready."

Sherlock nodded and lead the way to the door, which he help open for John. "Thanks," John said, glancing at Sherlock, who didn't reply. Sherlock got a cab an also held the cab door open for John. John raised an eyebrow, but fist say anything. This time, the silence wasn't John as much as Sherlock. The cab ride was quick and as soon as the cab stopped, Sherlock threw money at the cabbie and jumped out, holding the door open for John again. He did this twice more, one opening 221, and two, their own flat door. As soon as Sherlock shut their door and they had both taken their coats (and scarf, in Sherlock's case) off, John jumped Sherlock.

"Why were you holding doors open for me? You never do. Why start now?" John demanded, facing Sherlock.

"Sentiment," replied Sherlock simply, clasping his hands behind his back and looking John in the eyes.

"Sentiment?" John was thrown. Really? Sentiment? "I thought you didn't believe in sentiment. 'It's a chemical defect in the brain' or something like that?" asked John disbelievingly, doing air quotes over chemical defect.

Sherlock nodded. "You see to be the exception."

John's jaw dropped. "I'm your exception?" he asked, shocked, mind whirring at a million miles an hour. Exception, that's what he was repeating all night. He does like you! Told you, the smug voice commented. Sherlock nodded again, looking a bit nervous.

"Well, I guess that it's good that you're my exception too," John said finally, smiling softly at Sherlock. Sherlock's eyes widened infinitesimally before John leaned forward and closed what little distance there was between the them.

"Happy Valentine's Day John," Sherlock mumbled after they broke away.

John grinned. "Happy Valentine's Day Sherlock."


End file.
